


Amourphous Bones

by confusingyourpolarity



Category: Original Work
Genre: Body Horror, F/F, F/M, Fae & Fairies, M/M, Multi, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23247739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confusingyourpolarity/pseuds/confusingyourpolarity
Summary: This is a very random idea I had on my long drive home from college. It's my first work, and I don't really expect many people to read it, but if you enjoyed it, or have any pointers please leave a comment! Unbeta'd and first draft.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	Amourphous Bones

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very random idea I had on my long drive home from college. It's my first work, and I don't really expect many people to read it, but if you enjoyed it, or have any pointers please leave a comment! Unbeta'd and first draft.

When the rawhead entered the Autumn Faewoods, the air was different. The air being different in the wood was not an unusual, as she passed through a shortcut in the fabric of the world, a Path. What was different was the stillness where there was normally wind, and the lack of presence of the lives she could normally feel around her, of kelpies and selkies and autumn dryads and the animals they lived on. The trees were covered in the kind of colors normally only found on the most beautiful of fall days, and the air was sharp and crisp. It was like this eternally, the perfect atmosphere for Autumn fae. She crouched down behind a copse of trees by the little lake, and waited.

The thick muscle of her thighs had begun to stiffen with exertion, and to slowly drip ichor from her skinless flesh when she saw them. Most fae had a certain grace in their movements, either from their power pouring into preternatural beauty, or because they hunted eternally and moved with swiftness and silence. This one clearly had both ways of moving, but sey stumbled towards the lake, shaking, and all but fell into the shallows of it. Sey brought their head up, taking a deep breath, and stripped out of seir ragged clothes.

Sey were the most beautiful being she had ever seen. Were she poetic, or even just better acquainted with words than she was, she might have found something equal to sem. Sey were well over six feet tall, corded with lean muscle, with a flat chest and a narrow waist. Seir legs were incredibly long and shapely and seir hips were curved. Sey had sable skin that faded to a deep purple on seir extremities. Seir face was angular, freckled, and seir left eye was completely black, sclera and all. The right eye was blue, clearly sightless, and bisected by a long slashing scar that reached from seir hairline down to seir jaw in a bright white. Similar scars, some jagged and imprecise, others that could only have been from concentrated effort to cause pain ran the course over the entire front of seir body. Some sections of seir midnight black, curly hair reached all the way to their knees, and other sections appeared as though they had been chopped off inexpertly. Then sey twisted, and she had to force herself not to gasp. 

Four iron rings had been implanted in seir back, two on the twin corners of seir shoulder blades, and two parallel on the small of seir back. There appeared to be spell sachets inside the rings, and the being clawed at them, but with any contact seir hands made there were hisses and pops, as if from a roaring fire, and the acrid smell of burnt flesh filled the formerly tranquil air. Running from the nape of seir neck to the tip of seir tailbone was a brand, reading "gràineileachd", which was a word of the high Sidhe that she didn’t know the meaning of. It could only have been done with an iron brand.

Iron was the only thing that can truly harm a member of the high Sidhe, which this being must be, to even be surviving it’s presence under seir skin. It kills lesser fae, and burns the higher like it’s fresh forged and still dripping molten metal. Sey curled their shoulders, which made the rings and the brand stand out in sharp relief on seir skin and seir body began to change. Muscle and bone moved under seir skin, and there were the type of sickening pops that only come from bones leaving their sockets. Suddenly seir spine had far too many vertebrae, seir arms were longer, seir hair even and cropped close to the scalp. Then sey let a pained gasp escape, and reverted to seir original form, at a speed too fast for the eye to follow. One of the iron rings glowed red under seir right shoulder, and sey choked out a low groan. Scrabbling in seir discarded clothing, seir hands emerged with a long, silver stiletto dagger. Sey twisted, desperately, and plunged it into seir shoulder, digging the blade through skin and muscle alike. Milky white blood began to slowly pour from the wound. The scrape of the blade against the ring was loud in the silent woods, and galvanized her to stand up from her crouch. At the sound of her exhale as she stood, the being whipped around and dragged the blade from seir shoulder, with another audible scrape. Seir healthy eye blazed white and seir right arm raised, palm out. 

The rawhead could feel the power coalescing around the being. Most high fae wielded magic far different from mortal practitioners. They didn’t memorize spells, or use their will. Magic just was, in the fae. She had never seen this before. Dim light rolled in waves off of seir skin, but with her Sight she could see it also leaking, seemingly useless, from the iron rings on seir back. The beings face contorted in pain and exhaustion, and the light seemed to be absorbed by seir skin. She took a step forward, and seir whole body flinched. Sey backed away quickly, splashing in the shallows of the water. 

“Ná dean” sey started to say, their voice deep and smooth, “teagmháil liom”, and collapsed onto seir knees. 

“I don’t speak the High language” she replied, “I don’t know who or what you are, but I can help you with those things in your back, if you like”. 

She didn’t really know what had come over her. She kept to herself, to her existence on the borders of Fae and the normal world. Her people had made it clear that there was no use for something like her, especially if she insisted on being kind to sentient beings, even when she needed to kill them. But this fae, whatever kind sey were, was beautiful and powerful and hurt, and she had never wanted to shy away from things like that. 

"Give me one of your Names" the fae said, "So I know you can't harm me."

She had never had a name. Rawheads were outcasts in Fae, used as muscle for the Autumn and Winter courts when necessitated, and then thrown away. She wasn’t born, but rather summoned by some vengeful blood witch, and learned to build herself a body out of animal carcasses, and then human. The others of her kind didn’t take kindly to her aversion to killing the helpless, as they were wont to do, or particularly to her ability to exist on the edge of the non-fae world, so she eked out an existence in a ruined cottage, avoiding sentient eyes unless she was on the hunt for a new piece of herself. She had been rolling over words in her head for much of her life, and she had a few that she enjoyed the sounds of. 

"I don't have a Name" she said cautiously, raising her hands away "But I am Yssa, and I can help you, if you let me. I live outside the woods, nearer to mortal settlement. There's a hedgewitch there who might be able to get those things out of your back, and I have food, and a threshold safe from those who are not invited. Will you come with me, and give me a name to call you?"

"There doesn't appear to be a safer option for me" said the being. "I am called Mab, and I will come with you on the condition that you do not touch me under any circumstance while I am in this state. I cannot control the Lure and I will not take the unconsenting in my thrall. Do we have an accord?"

Yssa dipped her head in a show of acquiescence, and began to walk towards her shortcut. Mab regained seir clothes, and followed, although sey kept some distance between the two of them.


End file.
